Sonata
by chibiaries
Summary: It cannot be expressed with words alone. HeixYin.
1. Tears

Hi readers…please enjoy this two-shot. I absolutely love this pairing. I'm considering doing a NovemberxMisaki one next because I also think they're well suited for each other. Yeah. I apologize in advance if anyone dislikes the copious amounts of fluff in here; I hope the characters are not too OOC. Potential spoilers in here.

Please RxR!

**Title: **Sonata

**Summary: ~ [**It cannot be expressed in words alone]

**Pairing: **Hei x Yin

**Rating: **T

**Type: **Two-shot

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_How far must I go? (I'm waiting alone)  
As I pass through the multi-colored darkness,  
the guiding melody  
makes my heart excited.__  
_---"Maze" Pandora Hearts ED (translated)

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"Li-san!"

The lean youth turned, one hand brushing back the ebony strands of hair that had matted to his forehead with a light sheen of sweat. Around his feet were an odd mish-mash of boxes, tables, pictures, and other furnishings.

"Thanks for moving all these items out of storage. The restaurant is undergoing some renovation, so these are going to have to be sold for whatever price we can dispose of them for. But, ah…" The manager smiled sheepishly, "Li-san, could you perhaps deliver the items for us to our usual business? The driver we hired seems to have fallen ill. A case of bad octopus." He gestured towards a weather-beaten gray truck sitting on the pavement behind him.

"I assume Li-san has a license. And you'll be paid overtime, of course."

"I'll do it." He carried four boxes at once, stacking them neatly in the truck.

"I knew I could count on you, Li-san! Just bring the truck back tomorrow after you're done."

He nodded in acknowledgement of the manager's words, and continued transferring the items from the sidewalk to the truck.

Overhead, thick clouds clustered like a flock of frightened sheep as a chilly wind swept through the street.

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_Whump-whoosh._

_Whump-whoosh._

His steel-gray eyes narrow as he attempts to see through the silvery sheets of rain hitting the windshield; the truck's wipers worked futilely to keep his line of vision clear.

Hands tensed and ready on the wheel, prepared to make a split-second turn to prevent any accidents that might delay his journey towards his intended destination.

The errand had taken longer than he expected, since the owner had accepted all of the deliveries but one; the other businesses he had driven to also refused to take it.

At least the manager would be pleased with the amount that they had wired to the restaurant from the profit on the other things.

His eyes roved the road before him swiftly. It was getting late (dark) and the rain hadn't been helpful for a quick drive back to his living quarters either.

The apartments couldn't be that far now.

He calculated about ten more blocks were left to navigate through before—

_Pbtt-pbbt._

The truck engine sputtered loudly, like a cat trying to cough up a hairball.

That was definitely not a good sign.

Exasperated, he swung the truck towards the nearest curb before it gave one last hiccough and fell silent.

The headlights flickered off and he removed the key from the lock with a quick twist of the wrist.

He released his seatbelt buckle with a click, and peered through the side window; he blinked once, twice.

A familiar small shop, with Tobacco over a sign in dull, peeling letters meets his eyes.

In the front window sits a petite girl, strikingly distinct from the faded surroundings with a mussed ponytail of silver-bright hair and a dress of rich violet.

"Yin." The name escapes his lips before he is aware of it, more of an unconscious sigh than a declaration.

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As he expects, she shows no surprise when he staggers into the building, hair soaked and shirt doused with rainwater. Behind him is a large article swathed in a mass of velvet; it barely fits in the constricted space.

Her eyes—the exact shade of amaranth blossoms—gaze outside the window, face smooth and empty as if in meditation.

The reflection of the girl in the window is interspersed with slashes of silver, the raindrops falling faster, heavier, drumming a hypnotic rhythm on the rooftop.

He sees her mouth move slightly, as if in prayer, a murmur of a word that sounds like "Mother".

He takes a step forwards and stops, his face cloaked in the darkness.

"Yin." His voice echoes in the silence of the room.

She gracefully steps to her feet, maneuvering past him and his burden towards the back of the shop. He sits down, cross-legged, feeling the water slide off his hair to drip on the wooden floor.

"Hei." She drops the towel over his head, roughly textured and pastel-white. Next to his feet is a small stack of other towels in assorted sizes.

Yin returns to her spot by the window, staring through it as if searching for something lost.

(Looking, although she was blind)

"I like the rain."

Her statement was thoroughly unexpected and his motions of drying his hair slow, then stop. The towel hangs around his neck loosely now, while he watches her face with seemingly blank disinterest.

"I can see more things then." One of her hands rests on the windowpane, almost as if reaching for the downpour outside.

"But…it's like the sky is crying."

(Feelings, emotions...an impossibility)

She almost sounds sad, bordering on melancholy. Different from her usual stoic state. The idea discomfits him for some unfathomable reason.

"Yin." She turns her head slightly towards him. "I can't go back to my apartment tonight. I have to stay here. And that too." He gestures vaguely towards the shape crowding the room, veiled in fabric. "The truck is too leaky and the water could ruin it."

She nods her assent, silver tresses bobbing with her.

Startlingly, she meanders towards the mass, her hand trailing across the burgundy cloth until it flutters and slides to the ground.

"A piano." He senses a hint, just a hint of wistfulness, yearning, something in her observation—an intangible quality from her voice, her posture, and the way her hands almost reverently roamed on the glossy lid.

He remembers, hearing the foreigner call her 'Kirsi' (a strange name), the melody that weaved through the hallway, strains of it reaching through his mask. That's right. She had a past too, a past that he never asked about, or felt any curiosity for. They were content without the knowing.

"Would you like to play something?"

Her expression remains the same, but her hands still from their wandering.

The words are spontaneous; perhaps he can't stand the idea of taking it back to the restaurant, unused, unwanted, to be smashed and broken only for spare parts.

She takes out a crate from under a shelf, places it before the instrument and lifts the cover.

Ivory white and night-black keys all gleaming in a row; the girl presses a finger hesitantly on one, the note vibrating in the air.

The piano is still surprisingly in tune after storage for such a long time.

There is a pause, a waiting in the stillness.

She began playing.

At first, slowly, almost timidly, but her pale fingers continue dancing across the notes, gaining in strength.

The notes flutter in the air like doves, falling gently and swiftly as snow.

He watches her, gray eyes keen and unreadable.

Her hands flow past the keys, delicate butterflies alighting on summer blossoms.

It's a haunting melody, interspersed with the distinct harmony of raindrops; they mingle until they are one—one song, one piece.

His eyes close as he reclines in a corner, listening.

Undeniably, she plays well; the surge of lines, melodies and rain is mesmerizing.

The rain continues dancing on the surfaces of the shop, from the sky.

Did she play for five minutes? Fifteen? An hour?

He relaxes, forgetting for a measure of eternity that he was Li, a Chinese college exchange student; BK-201, the deadly Black Reaper; only with her can he afford to drop his façade of ruthlessness and disdain.

She stops; the keys lift, then quiet.

The last note quivers in the air, lingering like a fragile, shimmering spell.

(Silver, like the moon, serenely glowing and magical)

Her eyes glimmer slightly; breathless, her fingers still tingling from their exertions.

He exhales calmly, slowly, limbs slack and dark hair spiked and slick with water.

Rest, rest, breathe—

She sits at the piano, listening to the ever-falling rain for a heartbeat or two.

Then she stands, walks unhurriedly into another room and comes out with a bundle in her arms.

She envelopes him with the comforter, tucking it around his shoulders; one hand reaches to sweep his bangs shielding his eyes—it freezes for a fraction of a second, then drops to her side.

"Sleep well, Hei." A whisper, a request in the shadows of night.

_The sky weeps, the rain falls like tears._

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A/N: Okay, another part follows after this that is less angsty and more comedic. I'm sorry again if you overdosed on fluff. Please RxR!

By the way, the sonata I was thinking that Yin plays is the "Moonlight Sonata" composed by Beethoven. According to legend, he created it while playing piano for a blind girl at night that he may have been in love with.

So, yeah.

RxR!


	2. Omake

So…here's the second part of the two shot thing. More comedic fluff in here than angst/romance so be warned. Please RxR, each one is a confidence booster. Remember kids, depression can be alleviated by chocolate and happiness.

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It was a lovely spring morning.

The sun was shining as brightly as a rock idol's smile, the sky was a clear and sapphire blue, the birds were chirping cheerily to each other, and a playful breeze whirled around, tinted with the sweet uplifting scent of cherry blossoms…in short, a perfect morning.

The pink-haired girl skipping down the street paused, and frowned slightly. Actually it was two weeks past the cherry blossom season and there weren't really any singing birds around. Not to mention that the sky was clouded over in a manner unfitting for a spring morning.

Kiko sighed in a very dramatic manner.

"If only I was the heroine in a shojo manga, the scenery around me should be as sunny as my mood!"

In the midst of her contemplation, another thought niggled at her mind. She struck Kiko's super special and impressive Pondering on an Important Thought Pose #4™.

"Ah! I got it!" She pounded a fist into her hand. "Today I have to bring Yin the latest chapter of Moonlit Nights. She must hear the tenth heart-pounding tragic tale of Miyuki, Keiji, and Zen! It is so full of MOE! And Zen-kun is sooo dreamy…"

She began drooling over the thought of glomping the white-haired, violet-eyed bishonen with a sensitive and caring soul beneath his troubled and mysterious exterior…although she would choose Delicious Collarbones guy over him any day because he was tall, dark-haired, and wonderfully real.

She almost had a nosebleed from such delightful visions.

"Focus, Kiko!" Her pink pigtails swung furiously from side to side as she shook her head. "Remember you are on a mission to introduce your friend to the joys of manga. And maybe if I'm lucky I'll see Delicious Collarbones Guy again…"

Humming the fifth opening theme song from The Rose of Maurice ("This Blossoming Feeling"), she skipped merrily on her way.

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In a mysterious undisclosed location, a tall, mysterious, dark-haired man next to a mysterious vehicle mysterious sneezed, for some mysterious reason.

It was quite a mystery.

Li idly wondered why the truck engine conveniently broke down the day before right in front of Yin's shop. He had woken up early that morning to bring the truck back to the restaurant before his shift. Yin was nowhere to be seen; she was probably still sleeping (could Dolls sleep?) or resting in another room.

Peering in the front hood, armed with a flashlight in one hand and a wrench in the other, he glanced over the mass of metal and wires.

He frowned slightly when he glimpsed a thin trail of dark liquid from under the truck.

Clenching the flashlight between his teeth, he crouched down to discover the source of the fluid.

Apparently, the gas tank had somehow acquired a hole about the size of a quarter.  
He started searching for duct tape in the toolbox at the rear of the truck.

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"Finally, the heroine reached her dear friend's house to deliver a vital message! But what's this? Some unknown person is skulking about her dwelling. Who can it be?"

Kiko cleverly hid herself behind some convenient bushes to gather information.

She gasped when she saw the face of the person who had walked out from the old shop to a run-down gray truck.

"Delicious Collarbones Guy!" She couldn't believe it. "Why is he here?"

A delightful puzzle for famous Detective Kiko to solve!

She resisted the urge to ogle as she mulled over the mystery.

"He must be going out with Yin! That is the only reasonable explanation!"

Sparkling tears ran down her cheeks and a mournful string quartet played in the background as she brooded over her unrequited love.

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"Hei! Where were you yesterday? Huang has another mission for you."

Strangely the words seemed to issue from a cat with a pelt of midnight and intensely violet eyes.

"I couldn't find you yesterday because of the dratted rain. It's making my coat smell. The meeting is at the same place as usual."

He prowled back and forth across the balcony of the apartment as his tail flicked wildly from side to side, the only sign of his irritation.

The youth seemingly ignored him, casting his green quilted jacket to the floor and crouching on the ground to rummage through a backpack.

"…I was at Yin's."

The cat stopped pacing, and blinked.

He coughed something that sounded suspiciously like "Kids and their hormones these days…"

"Agh! You pesky cat! Get away from here!"

Mao gave a yowl of shock as he dashed away from the elderly woman furiously wielding a broom like a sword.

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"Yin! Yin! You must go shopping with me! If you're the heroine of a shojou series, you must get a special outfit for dates, for dancing, for the confession scene and…"

As the pink-haired girl rambled on, she ran out of the building dragging behind her a slender girl with moonsilver hair, who gave no reply to her exclamations.

Yin had _absolutely_ no idea what was going on.

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A/N: That…was just something I had to type.

It discomfits me when I get the feeling of "what now?" after reading an oneshot.

Please RxR!


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